


Just For Tonight

by hcrlaws



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 18:34:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18900298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hcrlaws/pseuds/hcrlaws
Summary: Sansa and Theon share a night in the godswood pool together on their last night before the battle of Winterfell.





	Just For Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing anything from GoT / ASOIAF so apologise if there is anything that is inaccurate or anything like that. I've just started the show a few months ago, now have finished and I'm about to read the books as well. But I just wanted to write a little something for our Theonsa shipper hearts. Hope you enjoy!

Their soup had gone cold, their bread hard because of how long it had taken them to even eat a little of their meal. Sansa and Theon had been sat there for 2 hours now, nursing at their soup. The young girl had barely touched hers, the nerves that were filling her body and the energy in the air being too much for anyone to eat.

Everyone was just waiting for the dead to reach them and the battle to start.

She knew that’s what Theon was waiting for. He was keeping on a brave face as he occasionally glanced up at her from his bowl, the corner of his lips tugging up into a shy smile, but she could tell by how tense his shoulders were, and the fact he kept looking around himself, he was nervous.

The sound of Theon placing his bowl of soup to the side snaps her out of her thoughts, raising one of her eyebrows in question at him.

“Would you like to walk with me, Lady Sansa?” His voice was confident, held together and didn’t stutter like it did the last time she had been him and they had escaped the pains of Ramsay Bolton.

It was like she was sitting in front of a whole different person. It wasn’t old, cocky Theon who thought he was the most handsome man in all of the seven kingdoms, and it wasn’t scared, abused Reek that she had met when Winterfell had not felt like her home for the first time in her life.

This was a new and improved Theon. A real man, like the knights she used to read about in the books in the library.

“I’d love to, m’lord.”

Setting her soup and bread to the side, abandoning their meals as the both of them move with one another away from the chaos that was happening in the yard, Sansa takes Theon’s arm, not being able to stop herself from glancing up at his strong facial features as they walked.

His jaw was clenched, ever since she had put her arm through his, a slight pink colour coming over his cheeks and the tips of his ears. She wondered how long it had been since a woman had hung off his arm like she was currently doing.

Noticing that he was leading them towards the path to the godswood, Sansa gives a question glance his way, her free hand lifting up her skirt, so it doesn’t trail along in the snow.

 

 

“The godswood? Why are we here?” She asks once they arrive, stopping at the heart tree as she glances up at the face.

“Ever swam in here?” Theon quizzes, nodding his head towards the pool that sat beside them. Of course, he’d be attracted to coming here, the one place in Winterfell that had something he could swim in.

Shaking her head, Sansa clasps her hands together in front of herself.

“No, I never learned to swim. Not all of us can be sharks like you.” Her voice was teasing, a little surprised to see the grin that came across his face at her comment.

The first thing she noticed was the broken and missing teeth. It broke her heart, to think that he had always been grinning and making all the girls swoon for him before, and now he barely smiled. She missed seeing his smile.

“Want to come for a swim with me?”

Scrunching her face up, the red head looks down at the water, completely still and looking like it may freeze over at any time. He wanted her to go swimming. In that?

“It looks cold. And I cannot swim.”

“I’ll hold you. I won’t let you go. Plus, it’s not that deep that you’ll drown in it anyway. I can touch the bottom.”

It was at that moment that Sansa noticed that Theon had kicked off his boots, taking off his gloves and setting them at the side of the pool. Her blue orbs instantly drop to look at the mess his hands were in, noticing the red skin and the stumps where certain fingers used to be.

Kneeling at the side of the pool, Sansa takes off her gloves and allows her hand to touch the stilled water, a small gasp coming from her at how cold the water was. Even with how cold it was, it felt nice against her skin, and the thought of sharing a moment like this with Theon, on possibly their last night alive, was something she was not going to pass up.

Lifting her gaze, she catches the sight of Theon slipping off his tunic, his armour already laid out on the ground where he had left his boots and gloves.

Sansa couldn’t help but stare at him, her eyes wide and mouth slightly dropped open. He had put on weight since he had been with Ramsay and was building the muscle back up that he had lost. Scars covered his torso, slashes from a whip across his back muscles and crosses cut into his biceps to symbolise the Bolton symbol. It made her feel sick to her stomach to look at, and she knew that wasn’t the worst of it.

Dropping her eyes before he can catch her looking at him, Sansa slowly moves herself to take her heels off, pulling down her stockings from underneath her dress and setting them to the side. She could feel Theon’s eyes on her as she slowly moved her legs into the water, sitting on the edge and only dangling her feet in. The shock of the cold hit her, causing a loud gasp.

She heard Theon chuckling to the side of her, head snapping in his direction. She tries to give him a stern look, but ends up breaking out into a smile, because seeing him happy for once was the most amazing thing.

“Cold?” He questions, little smirk on his lips as he moves closer to the water, dipping his toes, or the toes that he had left into the water. “Not too bad. Much colder in Pyke.”

“What is Pyke like?”

He seemed surprised that she was asking him about the place that he came from and grew up in till the age of ten.

“Well, it’s cold all the time, and the winds are crazy there because we live right beside the sea. It’s… a poor place. Not many rich people live in the Iron Islands at all. Where I live, is a collection of towers that are held together by bridges. That’s how we get from tower to tower.”

Looking down at the water again, Sansa hums as she moves her legs around and brings them up to look at her toes, giving them a wiggle as she smiles.

“Will you take me there one day? When all of this is over?”

“If we live, yeah. I’ll take you to the Iron Islands. Maybe not Pyke though… the people aren’t friendly to Northerners there.”

They sit in silence for a few moments before Theon reaches for his breaches, turning to look at her with an embarrassed face, cheeks flushed and his head down.

“Would it be alright if you- um… turned around? Till I get in the water?”

Sansa instantly done as he asked, not wanting to make him feel bad about it. It crushed her that he was ashamed at all, but she knew it must be something that embarrassed him. Theon who went around getting all the ladies, having them hanging off his arms and in his bed quite often, now being the dickless man, the one that Ramsay had made him be.

Sansa still thought he was a man. Maybe even more of a man than he was before.

She heard his breaches hitting the ground as he kicks them to the side, and the sound of him slipping into the water moments later. He as well made a surprised sound at how cold it was, causing her to smirk as she lifts her head back up to look at him.

“Thought it wasn’t that bad?”

“It’s not. Just a little shock to the system that’s all.” He playfully throws back at her, moving himself around in the water so angelic, like he was a fish.

Sansa watched him as she sat on the side of the pool, small smile gracing her lips. She felt at peace and had almost forgotten about the dangers that were just around the corner from them.

She could happily stay here with him forever.

“Still not coming in?” Theon throws to her, swimming towards her as he moves to rest his hands on either side of her, having to tilt his head to look up at her face.

Shaking her head at him, she moves one of her hands to rest over the top of his, fingers brushing against the stumps where his fingers used to be.

“Come on, I’ll hold onto you the whole time. I wont let you go, not even one hand will come off of you.”

Those eyes. Always getting her with those eyes of his.

Sansa lets out a playful groan as she stands herself up, legs coming out of the water as she stands on the snow with her bare feet just while she slips her furs and dress off herself. She lays them to the side, standing in her small clothes as she looks at Theon whose eyes were locked onto her.

“Excuse me, Lord Theon, but I do believe that men aren’t supposed to look at ladies who aren’t their wives naked.” She teases, knowing he had seen plenty of naked women’s bodies in his lifetime. One of them was hers, on the night of her and Ramsay’s wedding. But they never spoke of that.

“My apologise, my lady.” Bowing his head to her in a playful way, Theon turns his back to her, looking out into the surrounding trees. She was thankful for it, as she slips her small clothes off of her body and stands naked, staring down at him for the moment before she moves towards the pool again, slowly slipping into it with another gasp as the cold hits her whole body all at once.

She shivers as she moves towards him, feet just touching the bottom of it. Hearing that she had gotten into the water, Theon turns around and wraps his arms around her, holding her up just like he had promised that he would.

“See? Not too bad.”

“Not too bad? Theon, it’s freezing in here.” She whines out, pushing herself closer to him to try and get body heat off him.

They both tense as she presses her chest against his, staring at each other before her arms move to wrap around his neck, giving him a small smile to let him know that it was alright.

It felt weird, to be this close to Theon Greyjoy of all people. If you had told Sansa this when she was dreaming of princes and knights and the south, she would have laughed. Theon Greyjoy? Her brothers’ best friend? No. Not him.

But here she was, wrapped up in his arms with her body pressed flushed against his. They both had their scars, not afraid to show them to each other. There was some he was not willing to show, and some she was not willing to show, but that was okay. Because perhaps they would in time.

“Warming up now?” His voice was quiet, almost a mumble as she leans forward to press her forehead against his, her fingers moving up to play with the damp curls at the back of his neck. Her long red hair was floating in the water, but she didn’t care for that, which was strange. She always cared for her appearance.

“Yes. It’s still cold but, not as shocking anymore.”

Floating in the water together, Sansa decides to break the silence that had come again.

“When you said you’d take me to the Iron Islands, but not Pyke, which other island were you meaning?”

She was sure she heard Theon sucking in a deep breath, a sad look coming across his eyes.

“Harlaw is a much prettier island than Pyke is. It’s… where my mother stays. In Ten Towers.”

This was the first time she had ever heard Theon mentioning his mother. He had spoke of his father, of his brothers that had died in his father’s rebellion, and of course, about his sister, Yara, but never about his mother.

“Why didn’t your mother live with your father?” She was curious. Her mother and father had lived together, so why didn’t his?

“She used to live in Pyke, back when I was just a child but- after Maron and Rodrik died, and I was taken away from her and placed with you, she… started to lose it a little. I say a little, but I mean a lot. She didn’t lose it in the way the mad king lost it. My mother is more, head in the clouds constantly. Yara told me that- they’d find her walking across the wooden bridges with no shoes on during the night, calling out mine and my brothers names. She was so sure that she heard us calling for her, and then my father would have to take the splinters out her feet in the morning. She just got worse, so he sent her home to her brother and sister. She doesn’t even remember how long it’s been since I was taken from her, she thinks I’m still a boy of ten, and that Maron and Rodrik are still alive.”

Sansa listened to everything he said, her heart breaking for the mother that had lost so much that meant so much to her. It made her feel a shooting of anger towards her father for a second, before she pushed it down.

“I’m sorry that happened to her, because of my father.”

Shaking his head, Theon gives a weak smile.

“Your father did what Robert Baratheon commanded. I was much better here with you, and the rest of the Starks, then I ever was with my family. My brothers were horrible to me, my father hated me and always said I wasn’t good enough. My mother was the only one who constantly accepted me and loved me. Ned was the father I chose. Not Balon.”

Sansa hums, smiling at the fact he had called Ned his father. Her father would have loved that, she knew he would have.

“When this battle is over, I’ll take you to Ten Towers and introduce you to my mother, Alannys Harlaw. She’ll love you; I know she will.” One of his hands moves from her waist and comes up to her cheek, gently stroking his thumb against it.

Their eyes were locked on one another, and before she had the chance to stop herself, Sansa had leaned in and pressed her lips against his. The kiss was soft, caring and full of love. It wasn’t harsh or used against her for manipulation like every other kiss had been for her.

This time she had chosen who she was kissing, so she would take this as her first kiss.

The kiss continued, both gripping at each other and unwilling to let the other go. Perhaps they just wanted to remember that moment in case anything did happen.

The only thing that broke them apart was the sound of the horn going off, signalling that the battle was starting, and the dead were upon them.

 

 

Sansa kept her promise, even after Theon had died in the battle protecting Bran from the Night King. She had put him to rest, Stark pin against his chest. He died a Stark, and a Greyjoy, but most of all as Theon, and not as Reek. Like he always wanted to do.

After being crowned the Queen of the North, she sailed to Harlaw like she had planned to do with Theon by her side, looking at the beautiful modern towers as the ship came into port.

Rodrik Harlaw had been a gentle man, with a bright smile on his face as she introduced herself and told him why she was here. She had made sure to tell him that his nephew died a hero and died loved.

She told Lady Alannys the same as they sewed in her chambers, chatting about the wild stories of Theon growing up. Alannys listened to every single one with a smile on her wrinkled face, eyes crinkled at the corners as she laughed at something silly Theon had gotten himself in trouble for.

It was that moment that Sansa noticed that Theon looked like his mother and had her eyes. The same storm coloured ones she had fallen in love with on the night of the battle, as they shared their moment in the godswood pool.

Theon Greyjoy had been the first man that Sansa had ever fallen in love with, and even when she married the Prince of Dorne, and had children, she never forgot Theon.

Specially since her little boy was called Theon himself, a little reminder that Theon would always be with her. Right at her side.

 


End file.
